


Parameters

by X_Kartoffel_X



Series: Sharp Suits & City Lights [1]
Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 01:49:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14660817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/X_Kartoffel_X/pseuds/X_Kartoffel_X
Summary: The pause is almost tangible."Reno's outside. He's been there for hours." There's this look, that she fixes him with; a long, hard stare, laced with something that might be pity but he isn't sure. "I told him you wouldn't want to see him. Not after he'd almost gotten you killed, but..."Rude frowns; studies Gun's face. "It was my fault."If he had just been quicker - if he had just followed Reno like he was supposed to... if they hadn't split up... Reno shouldn't be held accountable for his error.





	Parameters

**Author's Note:**

> So, I finally got off my lazy butt and decided to start finishing the mass of half-written works in this series. My headcanons for these boys, my precious boys, are expansive and run deep as the roots on so many old trees.
> 
> These titbits I share barely scrape the surface; a passing glance, at most... but I hope you enjoy them, even so.
> 
> The focus of today's installment is relationships shifting. Opinions changing. Being reassessed.

Rude remembers the whir of helicopter blades. The groan and judder of its engines.

 Remembers lights blurring in and out of focus overhead, and a painful pressure on his already wounded shoulder.

He remembers panicked eyes, Gun's voice echoing, "Stay awake, just _stay awake."_

Remembers his head falling to one side; seeing a mess of red hair beside him. 

 Remembers thinking he had lost another partner.

 Thinking he had failed again.

 He doesn't remember how he found his way onto this examination table, or when the healers had gathered around him, poking and prodding with injections and materia, and bandages that the former items rendered somewhat useless. He doesn't remember how he got from warehouse, to helicopter, to here... but he's alive so that has to count for something.

 His lips move and his voice is weaker than he expected. "'s Reno alright?"

 The doctor doesn't pause, simply continues poking and prodding at his shoulder in a way that leaves Rude aching to the very core of his muscles. "Fine, if mouthy. We're a little more concerned about you, so if you'll be quiet and let me work-" There's muffled yelling outside. Calmer voices, even more muffled, in response. The doctors eyes roll behind his glasses. "Can someone go and deal with that, please?" He pauses, as he casts a quick Cure on Rude's shoulder-blade. He can feel it working, tingling and knotting together wrecked muscle. " _Again_."

 "I'll go and see what I can do." He recognizes the voice, and the clack of Gun's boots, without having to see her features. Rude hadn't even realised she was in the room. 

 The yelling is louder, less muffled for a brief moment as Gun exists the room.

 Rude still can't make out what's being said, but he knows for sure the person doing all the yelling is Reno. Knows that drawling tone anywhere... figures, he's probably complaining about how bad the mission went. The fact that he nearly bled out. The fact that Rude didn't get to him quicker. Probably complaining that they shouldn't be partners any longer. Rude wouldn't blame him. 

"Nurse, can I please have some stitches, and fresh bandages here? This bullet wound wont close properly, even with materia. The shoulder dislocating has complicated the process." The pressure on his shoulder muscles is back, and so is a horrible, damp feeling that seems to be spreading across his chest and onto the surface beneath him. He tries not to panic. If this is his time... well, that's that. There's a sting around the thrumming ache that is his shoulder, and the wet feeling disperses; a sensation like constant pressure enveloping the wound and Rude can only assume that's the bandages doing their work."Nurse, if he moves, use an anesthetic on him. Can't have that wound jostled whilst it's healing."

Rude wants to say something - to complain or argue, because he's not a rowdy patient by any means - but the attempted movement of sitting up enough to retort sends a stabbing pain shooting through his entire left side, and so he quickly retreats to laying flat on the operating table. It's cold and hard and not even remotely comfortable, and the light overhead is far too bright for his unshaded eyes. He shuts them, blocking it out. The nurse shuffles around him, and the muffled arguments outside have moved a little further away, now. More like hushed, urgent whispering than anything else.

He doesn't even feel his consciousness slipping away until suddenly there is silence. 

* * *

 

When he reopens his eyes, there is no glaring light overhead. He is, in fact, propped up at an angle against a set of lumpy pillows, facing a television on a nearby wall - which, mercifully, is turned off at present. There's the gentle rhythmic bleep of a heart monitor sounding beside him, and he takes note that his heart rate is a little low compared to normal. It doesn't take him long to register that he is in a different room entirely from the one in which he first woke up, and the stinging sensation in his shoulder has numbed to a dull, throbbing ache. His eyes travel away from the monitor, spotting his shades on the beside table. They're cracked in the corner of one lense, but otherwise unharmed, and for now they'll have to do. 

He slips them on, and continues to take in his surroundings, now that the white, sterile lights cannot assault his senses; there's a clock above the doorway, hands signalling that it is twenty five past seven. Rude sensibly assumes that means it is the evening, and that he has been unconscious for most of the day, considering he was brought in around three in the morning. There are no windows, but the dull Midgar skyline was unlikely to give him much help in deciphering the exact time of day, anyway. Too much Mako tinting the world green at the edges.

He can hear shuffling outside. Pacing back and forth. 

 Scuffing shoes.

 He debates pressing the button at his bedside to signal a nurse into the room, just so that whoever's outside can be given some signal that he is awake and - from what he can, himself, discern - well. But that would also mean having to interact with the nurse - and then likely whoever was outside - both of which sounded like unnecessary stress, when he was already confined to a hospital bed and barely conscious as it already stood.  

It turns out he doesn't need to; perhaps his vital signs spiking with his waking had set off some kind of alert, or perhaps it was just intuition, but within a few moments, there's a knock at the door. The outline is familiar - sleek fall of a neat bobbed hairstyle, trim cut of a suit.

He doesn't have time to respond, before the door is pushed, gently, inwards; Gun's icy blue eyes finding him instantly - gaze soft and somewhat pitying. Her fingers grip the doorframe; a minute hesitation but one he picks up on instantly. The gentle little tap of her fingernails on the metallic frame. The flicker of her gaze, from his, to the floor, and back again.

Everyone has a tell. He just hides his behind tinted glass.

"Hey, Rude... How are you holding up?" Gun offers the weakest little smile, and pushes her way into the room carefully - footsteps purposeful, as if she had thought them each through. As she moves, there's a flutter of red, pacing colour behind her; Reno's gaze meets Rude's through the gap in the closing door, and for one, short moment, Rude wonders if what he sees there is guilt...

Probably just the knowledge that he had asked for his and Rude's partnership to be ended.

Rude couldn't blame him.

"They patched you up really well... you were black and blue all over when I last saw you." Her lips quirk upwards, though only a little, as the door clicks shut behind her, and she reaches the foot of the hospital bed. He only nods half-heartedly in response - a little too distracted still. Gaze fixed on the doorway, though he can see nothing through the solid barrier now blocking the view of the corridor beyond. "I um... I got you some things, just because... well, hospital food's famously _terrible_." There's a plastic bag bundled in her arms, reflective white starkly contrasting the black of her suit. She gestures it with a nod, and he glances at it briefly. "I just supposed that with how health-conscious you are, it would be a good idea..."

Rude nods, trying his best to smile. "Thanks," His shoulder hurts, and there's a dull ache behind his eyes still. Healthy food it the last thing on his mind, really, but he knows she means well. "I think I managed to sleep through dinner."

"I saw the trays outside the other rooms, and _trust me_ , Rude - you didn't want that stuff anyway." She laughs, and seems to take his responsiveness as a sign that he feels comfortable having her in the room. It takes her a few short strides to reach his bedside table, where she places the bag down and quickly begins rifling through it. "I bought you some of that vitamin water you like, a coffee, since you chug that at work like your life depends on it... and a few protein bars," She sets everything down carefully, the coffee with a sealed lid to keep it contained. "Oh, and a Banora apple."

Rude stifles a grimace with the clearing of his throat, as Gun proudly produces the singular piece of fruit from the bag, and places it down onto the tabletop. To most people, it would be a treat. However, he isn't such a fan of Banora apples - finding them waxy and sour from past experience. "Thanks." His side aches, and he is far too polite of a person. "No chance of a burger?"

"Not with the nurses you've got on this ward. Eyes like hawks," Gun smiles, then returns to the end of the bed. Her hands find the frame and grip it lightly. 

The pause is almost tangible.

"Reno's outside. He's been there for hours." There's this _look_ , that she fixes him with; a long, hard stare, laced with something that might be pity but he isn't sure. "I told him you wouldn't want to see him. Not after he'd almost gotten you killed, but..."

Rude frowns; studies Gun's face. "It was my fault."

If he had just been _quicker_ \- if he had just followed Reno like he was supposed to... if they hadn't split up... Reno shouldn't be held accountable for _his_ error.

"Rude, he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Sure, partners stick together - but when Reno's ignoring the infiltration plan _Veld himself_ came up with?" She clicks her tongue, shakes her head; he watches blonde hair brush her cheeks, lips pursed with distaste. "That's on him, not you. You already took enough of a beating just trying to fix his mistake - who the hell tries to batter down a door with a shoulder that's already been shot? You did more than what was necessary." 

Rude feels his shoulders sag a little, knowing he can't rightfully argue; logically, Gun has a point, and he _knows_  that she does. Only, the logic is lost to him; hidden behind images of flame-red hair caked with blood - eyes that glowed like Mako looking at him almost apologetically. A weak voice, trembling with effort; _'Sorry, I try not to look this much of a mess at work, yo'._ He should have stayed with Reno, even if it meant changing their game-plan. His partner should have come first. 

He should have learnt from Sal. 

Your partner _always_ comes first. _  
_

 

He doesn't voice any of this to Gun - just sits quietly, sipping at the coffee she had handed him. Letting his shoulders sag and his body loosen; he's tired, so tired. The fight is leaving him, and the distracting scuff of footsteps outside is wearing at him more than it should. She doesn't seem to mind; goes to the window and pulls the curtains closed so that the Mako-glow from the city outside won't keep him up, checks that the TV remote is within his reach, and rearranges the foodstuffs she had laid out on the beside table. Ten minutes pass. 

"Look, just hang in there, okay? After this, I don't imagine he'll be your partner for much longer." Gun gently sets Rude's now-empty coffee cup in the nearby sterile-waste disposal unit, leaving him to stare at her narrow back, through the dim world offered by his shades.

"What'dyou mean?"

"It's been, what, two and half months now? Your review's coming up at the four month mark - and after this whole mess, I wouldn't be surprised if they bumped it forward..." She turns, and smiles at him - it doesn't seem to occur to her that he's not smiling back, but then again, most people don't expect him to. "He'll be out of your hair in no time-" She laughs, softly, "Ah, sorry. Figure of speech."

"Yeah."

"I'll come back tomorrow when they're ready to let you out, okay? We can go get coffee and I'll help you get back to your apartment." She is already at the door, but looks back at him cheerily. It's not that he doesn't appreciate it, but more-so that...

"You don't have to." He doesn't want to feel unnecessarily uncomfortable, and try as he might, he's just not a sociable person. She doesn't look particularly put out - just twists the handle and begins to pull the door open, still talking as she does.

"If you're sure... I'll at least bring you a coffee first thing, and help you check out. You definitely don't need anything else?"

"Said you couldn't get a burger past the nurses." He shrugs. "I'm fine."

Laughing, she shakes her head. "See you tomorrow, Rude."

"Right."

He thinks he hears her begin speaking with someone outside, as the door clicks shut; then remembers who is lurking in the corridor, and sighs, leaning back against the stiff pillows of the hospital bed. Once the door closes behind her, there's nothing but silence, and the ever present drone of technology; an air conditioner whirring, softly, to keep the room temperate, and medical equipment ticking away. Gun's voice fades away, along with the footsteps that had been pacing back and forth outside his door for hours, now, and Rude tells himself he isn't a little disappointed that the guy never came in to at least ask him how he was doing, before he gave up and went home. Especially after all that had happened that evening... Not that he'd have expected that, after the way Reno had been acting these past few months, but... well. It probably is better, he thinks, that they leave it like this; Reno was the reason he was holed up on this hospital bed, after all. And he, too, was the reason Reno was worse for wear.

He would put the TV on, but there's likely to be nothing worth watching, anyway, besides terrible sitcoms, or reruns of daytime television, and ShinRa Corporation sponsored News... none of which sound entirely appealing when he's still a little achey, and half out of it on one-too-many bouts of cure materia. He thinks... he _thinks_ , maybe, he could call his mother, and let her know what happened; they haven't spoken properly in years, now. Haven't seen each other in even longer, but considering the situation it might be polite to... but she's still happy and thriving in Costa Del Sol, and living under the impression that her son is the bouncer of an upper-plate club. A nice, easy job. Relatively safe, in retrospect. If she knew what he actually did, well... It's a difficult conversation for a relationship that's already more than a little scuffed around the edges. He figures it's best not to tell her.

He settles for the silence, instead - listens to the sounds of nurses in corridors, patients in wards - being wheeled here and there. It dies out, quite quickly - visiting hours are over and as it's a private ward, most of the patients are simply expected to rest. Around the twenty minute mark, a nurse pops his head into the room and reminds Rude, politely, that noise should be kept at a minimum past this hour, and he simply nods in response, leans back on his sad-excuses for pillows, and wonders if he'll even be able to sleep. Should probably turn off the lights, so he can take off his shades, but the switch seems far away and his shoulder is sore and honestly he just wants to be at home in his own bed. He can't relax.

He was trained not to relax, unless he knew all of his escape routes. All of the ways someone could come at him.

Rude doesn't know this place; the layout of the building, the placement of the entrances and exits.

 It's no good.

 He sighs, shutting his eyes behind his shades and leaning his head back.

 The door rattles and he's back to attention; bolt upright on the bed, hands at his sides - ready to launch him forward if need be, even though this basic motion alone feels as if it's about to jarr his injury - but it isn't necessary. He frowns, rubbing at his forehead, when he sees who it is poking their head around the door-frame.

 "Yo..." Reno looks more than a little haggard; his hair is drooping, probably unwashed, and there are bags under his eyes which suggest he has not slept in a while. He hangs onto the door handle like it's protecting him from something, and keeps his gaze firmly on the fold of the hospital bed-sheet right next to Rude's knee, rather than meeting Rude's confused gaze. "Sorry to like... intrude or somethin', yo - but that nurse is gonna be back in like, ten seconds an' I don't wanna get caught so-"

 He's through the door - letting it shut behind him without even a sound - and half-way across the room before Rude has even responded (even if that response was merely a grunt of query). There's something clasped in his right hand, tucked slightly behind his back, and a strong smell of-

 "Figured you'd be hungry. The food in these places is the pits, yo - so I was grabbin' somethin' on the way back an thought... well. Whatever, you want it?" In one pale, freckled hand, Reno holds out a paper bag that smells like heaven. There's grease stains soaking through it already, but the smell alone... Rude nods, quietly, and reaches out to catch the bag as it is dropped in the vicinity of his lap. Reno smiles, just slightly, at him; a little lopsided and kind of sleazy. "What'd Gun bring you? Fruit?" He picks up the Banora apple, snickering to himself. "Jeez, and you guys are...? I'd dump her in a second. I hate this sweet kinda stuff. Savory is way better..."

Rude pauses in unwrapping the bag wafting heavenly-scents into his nostrils, and looks at Reno in confusion. "We're... what?"

"Huh? You and Gun are like, a thing, right? s'always talking to you." He's tossing the apple from hand to hand, though with some difficulty as his own paper bag remains clasped in his left hand; Rude shakes his head with a disagreeing hum, and pries the bag open. The wonderful smell of fries and grilled meat reaches his nostrils and he's pretty sure he's never smelled something so wonderful before. "Huh." Reno goes to catch the apple one last time, misses, and kicks it as it falls instead, in some attempt to save face. It slides underneath the hospital bed, and they both seem to decide to pretend that it didn't happen. 

It wasn't as if anyone was going to eat it, anyway.

 Reno clears his throat, opening his own bag with a clumsy ripping sound, and shrugs. "Weird, yo. She's hot, considering her attitude." 

"Not my type. We're just friends..." Rude looks into the bag, past the fries - plenty as they are - and blinks at the wrapped item inside. He knew the door had been open when he had joked to Gun, and yet-  "...this a burger...?" 

There is a pause that is a little too long, that causes Rude to look at Reno with caution. "Yeah, it was the closest thing I could find when I figured I was hungry," is the response, and Rude glances from behind his shades to watch the way Reno's shoulders stiffen a little; the way his hands grip his bag a little tighter. He blinks down at the burger, a little unsure. "Saw it and got a craving, so couldn't... I mean there was pizza 'n stuff but that's always too much, yo, I ain't got many places to put that much food." He laughs - snickers, really - uneasily, and shuffles from foot to foot. He's obviously lying, but what about, is the question. "Nurses looked at me like they knew, when I was comin' in. Visiting hours are over, so I kinda dodged behind a trolley an' a cleaning lady and maybe used some old guy in a wheelchair as cover to get in here. He totally wanted the burger, yo, but I told him the guy I was bringing it for was huge and could totally kick both our assess in a fight."

Rude raises a brow, still semi-distracted by the smell of food that wont stop making his mouth water.

Even if Reno had been listening in, the odds of him actually caring enough to go out and buy Rude a burger was just...

He looks at it again and wonders if maybe there's something wrong with it.

"You snuck past the nurses?"

"Yeah - considering this is a ShinRa facility, it was pretty damn easy. Might wanna report that."

Rude can't help but frown down at his food a little. The whole situation was a little strange; for one, this was probably the most they'd ever spoken to each other. Ever. "You..." He pauses, not sure what he wants to ask. "You okay?" It comes out before he really realises he's asking; but Reno had been pretty beat-up when Rude had found him on the floor of the facility storage room. Bleeding out from several places, at least. Looking at him now there's a few darker patches of skin here and there betraying evidence of cure-healed bruises and cuts, and Rude notes that he fails to exert any pressure or weight on his right ankle, left knee slightly buckled to hold the excess strain, but otherwise... 

Otherwise he looks fine.

Considering what happened to Sal... well, it's a good feeling. Almost makes the throbbing ache in his shoulder worth it.

_Almost._  It still hurts like hell.

"I mean if you don't wan't it that's cool, I just figured it'd be better than stuff you could get in here, so..." Reno glances at him, waiting for some kind of response. He looks awkward; uneasy. Standing out too harshly against the sterile white background of the recovery room, with his crinkled suit and dyed hair; all gangly limbs and stark angles. "You don't have to eat it if you don't want it, but since... after you..." One elbow is used to gesture to Rude where he sits, and in a matter of moments what he is trying to say - what his offer means - makes sense.

_After what you did, I wanted to say thank you._

"No, it's... thanks." He doesn't figure there's much else he can say; Reno was grateful enough to buy food he had specifically wanted, when previously he could scarcely seem to withstand being in the same room as him, so... Rude picks the burger up and unwraps it quietly, grabbing a few fries as he does.  This seems to be enough, because Reno's body language loosens, and he quickly and comfortably settles onto the end of the hospital bed with a 'thwump', folding a leg beneath himself and letting the other (his injured one, Rude notes) dangle over the mattress edge, as he picks up the TV remote and turns the unit on without asking. Rude chews his mouthful of fries, observing him as he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck from side to side.

"Doubt they've got all the channels, but... Yo, I know this one- this show is awful!" He says, but he turns up the volume and tosses down the remote, even so. Within moments he is settling back with a fistful of fries and a mouthful of burger, and Rude is having to move his feet so that they don't become an impromptu backrest. He wants to ask Reno to keep it down; wants to ask him why he's there, why he's hanging around, why he hasn't left yet... but...

A slapstick joke occurs on the screen; some woman trips, falls upside down amidst a flurry of groceries and flailing limbs. Reno laughs around a mouthful of fries and almost chokes, hunching forward and spluttering into his hands. When he leans back again, he's wiping away tears, and laughing once again, gesturing at the comedic aftermath on the screen with a greasy finger. 

"You seen this before?  That joke gets me every time."

Rude figures maybe, just maybe, a little bit of company isn't so bad.  
  
Unfortunately, the nurse who chucks Reno out by the collar several hours later, after he too-loudly heckles the reality tv show on screen and wakes several other patients along the corridor, does not seem to agree. Rude's final, fleeting glimpse of red hair and a lopsided grin as the door swings closed upon his partner stays with him all night. 

**Author's Note:**

> You may notice a theme, in this series, of these dear boys being utterly awful at emotion.
> 
> Welcome to hell.


End file.
